Discovering Jace
by Kris LeeAnn
Summary: What happens when Clary rescues the oh so attractive Jace from a doomed fate? Will Jace and Clary become friends? Will Jace help Clary find her father? Rated M to be safe, may be lemons in future chapters.(FYI, for the first few chapters the icon I was using as a time zone separator didn't post, making some parts confusing. By chapter 4 I started using "!" to indicate time jumps.)
1. Saving Jace Ch 1

Saving Jasper:

My phone buzzed sitting next to me on the bed.

 _Clary, please meet me in the chamber, love V._

Oh god, this was going to be awful _._ Valentine, otherwise know as my father, was having another auction, I hated when he made me go. All I could do was stand by helpless as immoral behavior took place right in front of my eyes, in my own house, and I was forced to watch.

I made my way down the steps to what was once a large wine cellar, now expanded to twice its original size, popularly known as the "chamber" to its guests and inhabitants. One chunk of the room was barred off like a large jail cell, and since the renovation was made, I can not remember a single day that cell has been unoccupied. All this buried underneath our large suburban household.

As always the room was set like an auction room, numerous rows of chairs set up facing a high rise only a foot above the ground, and upon each chair lay a paddle with a number printed on its face. When I glance over to the poor people in the cell my mind can't help but wonder what might become of them, the horrific thoughts sending shivers down my spine and taking the breath from my lungs, causing me to breath in the musty air trapped in the basement.

Only a few "guests" have arrived, whispering among themselves and examining the fresh candidates brought in only this month. My blood chills at the thought of how much I already know of this terrible process. Like, for example, the fact that each of these men took a cab, made the driver stop at the corner, and walked around the back of the house, otherwise every month my father would be getting complaints about the vehicles piled outside our drive, not to mention the suspicion it would raise when not a single noise could be heard from the house.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," rings the voice that is so familiar to me. Valentine stands behind me in his crisp black auctioneer suit, a stark contrast to his white head of hair. "I wish I could have taken you out today, but you know how much work there is on auction day, but I promise that whatever you want to do tomorrow, we can do it." My father was the CEO of an oil company and the head of the auction, meaning that he really did mean whatever I want.

You see, while my father was at work he had his own workers find targets, anyone appealing to the eye and who might go for a lot of money, after his men learned their targets routine, they would strike and capture. My father and the man would then make a deal on how much the worker was to be paid after the next auction for his contribution, my father would then pocket the earnings.

"Thanks dad," I said. I'm still was not happy about being forced to watch innocent people sold to disgusting pigs. I mean, how would my father feel if I were standing in that human cage while fifty year old perverts made agreements about how they would share me if they were the highest bidder. He still made me watch, even after my relentless arguing, hopeful that someday I would change my mind and see the world as he does.

I know why he makes me watch, though. It's because I'm the only one left to take over the business when he retires. My older brother, Jon, had been my father's apprentice when he was here, a blessing and a curse, it meant I was off the hook to go my own way, but it also meant that my brother was just as corrupt as my father. To prove my point I could tell you that my brother used to "test" any woman he found appealing, before putting her out on the market. Now that my brother is in prison, the baton of devil's sidekick has been passed to me…... _yay._

Even the name Valentine is corrupt, that is not my father's real name, it's his alias. He says he chose it because the average American person thinks of love when they think of Valentine. That's what my father thinks he's doing, spreading love, when infact he is disgracing the meaning of the word. Based on this alone, people would assume my father is psychotic, and he is, but only in this situation, in every other aspect of life he is the most sound person alive. The way I see it is, everybody has flaws, most people have many but they are small, my father just has one huge flaw, and this was it.

I am shaken back to the present by my father's voice. He no longer stands behind me, he is atop the high rise calling for silence, though it wasn't very loud to begin with. "My dear friends, I believe we have a great bunch for you to select from this evening, each ripe with their own good qualities." It sounds like he's talking about freshly picked bananas rather than people who have just had their life taken from them. I don't know how much more I can bear to hear and the auction hasn't even started yet.

As I lean against the back wall I see people of all ages, races, and genders sold to the highest bidder, each finding out how valuable their life is to somebody else. Some go for thousands, others for only a few hundred. "To finish out our exciting night I have a very special treat for you all tonight." Following my father's words, a man climbs onto the stage carrying chains in his hands, which he ties around the beam above his head, attached to these chains is the most beautiful boy I have ever seen.

It almost feels wrong to call a boy beautiful, but there was no other way to describe him, even scratched up, bruised, and dirty he was gorgeous. He had obviously fought hard, at least that's what the cracked knuckles, bruised eye, and scratched cheeks would tell me.

Before bidding could even start I heard the voice I had last been expecting to hear, my own. "I would like to take him," I said to me own amazement, and according to the looks on everybody else's face, they were just as shocked. It was no secret how against this whole system I am, and at first the "guests" had been worried I would turn them in, but that would also mean turning my father in, which Valentine assured his buyers I would never do.

"Sweetheart, we do not keep what we sell." My father spoke sweetly, almost convincingly, but I knew him too well, I could hear the anger in his voice, only angry at the fact that if I could keep this beautiful boy, he would have to pay the boy's captor with some of his earnings from tonight.

I don't know what it was that drew him to me, I've come to these things for years, only when forced, and seen many attractive young men sold off, but this one was different. Not only was he attractive, with his golden eyes and hair to match, but something else. It took me a moment to realize what that something was, rebellion.

While most who were tied to the rafters looked frightened, and often tear stained, this golden boy stood determined, with his shoulders back and his jaw set. Not in the least bit scared of who he could end up with, or even the whip that leaned against the back wall, only used for severe disobedience.

"You said I could have whatever I wanted for my birthday, consider this my present," I could see my father's jaw clenching and un-clenching even at this distance, until he reluctantly said yes.

I walked forward and grabbed his chains once he was unhooked from the rafters, and drew him to the back with me. "What's your name?" I asked, only to be met with rude remarks.

"You don't care, I'm just your new play thing, until you or your daddy get sick of me."

"You really don't even realize that I just saved you, you don't see how disgusted I am by all of this?" I asked, hoping the sincere-ness in my expression was enough to sway him. "If I really didn't care I would have let you be sold to some sixty year old perv that's into teenage boys. This whole process makes me want to hurl, but I have no power over my father's actions. If it was up to me you would all be home with your families." I saw realization dawn in his eyes as he started to understand I didn't agree with my father's side business. "My name is Clary by the way," This last part coming out softer than the rest.

The surprised look he had on his face was gone in seconds as he said, "My name _was_ Jace."

Author's Note:

This is my first ever fan-fic, so if I could please get some honest reviews, I'd really appreciate it. Thank you for reading.

-Kris


	2. Showing Jace Around

The next few minutes were a haze, most of the "guests" who had "purchased" that night piled into my father's van, the vehicle he only used once a month, and drove them home with their new found possessions. Others, the ones that didn't trust my father to know where they lived, and the ones who had not claimed a soul that night, left periodically. Not that anybody would have noticed if they had left in a group. The auction didn't even start until well after nightfall, giving the men, and occasional woman, plenty of coverage by the time the auction was over.

"Are we just going to stand here?" Despite his words, Jace didn't look all that irritated, in fact he almost looked as if he was enjoying himself.

"Are you smiling?" That was definitely something I had never seen from someone who had just been sold. Though, I have to admit, his smile only made him more attractive, even if it was a weird circumstance.

"Yep. I've been locked in that cage for two weeks, I'm happy to be out. Especially when my new owner is so good looking." He made a funny face when he said "owner" but otherwise looked as if everything he had just said was completely normal, which in fact, it was not.

Did he really just call me good looking, though? My cheeks were becoming the same red color as my hair. In a rush to cover up my blush I told him, "I'm not your owner."

"Oh, but aren't you. I'll admit I'm new to this whole thing but last I checked when somebody buys something, or in your case, is given something, you are the owner of that thing."

"Did you just call yourself a 'thing'?"

He shrugged,"That's all I am now, isn't it?"

"No!" I looked at him incredulously, "If you don't recall I already told you I don't agree with everything my father thinks. I believe a human life is a human life, and nobody has the right to take your rights from you."

"Oh, so then you'll let me go." He looked smug, like he already knew the answer.

"I wish I could, but I can't, in time maybe but if I just let you go my father would send people to search for you, maybe even kill you. He knows every bad person in this town, and now you know what he looks like, he's not just going to let you waltz right out the door."

"I get it," he said, but I could see the depleting hope behind his eyes, "can I at least take a shower?"

"Oh, right, yeah follow me." as we walked through the house, I could see his awe-struck expression, the house was very large, located in the richest suburban area in New York. We had more than enough money to live in a penthouse in the city, but then how would my father run his business, he needed a large, secluded, confined space, and it had to be undetected, making the only safe place his own home.

Crystal chandeliers hung in the dining room, living room, and entryway, as well as many mini versions hanging in the bedrooms, offices, hallways, and bathrooms. My father was also into weapons and had many rooms in the house decorated with antique pieces. Each room a different era, and each and every one of these rooms looked like a torture chamber.

Having designated rooms for his collections did not stop him from hanging weapons all along the walls however, and as we made the trek to my room on the third floor, Jace looked open-mouthed around him at the antique weaponry.

"So much for a low profile, huh?" he said as we ascended the last flight of stairs.

"Most people just think it's cool, and those who actually know of his business admire him for it," I said, making a face to show my disgust. "Anyway, here we are." The last floor was the smallest, with just my bedroom, art studio, bathroom and two spare bedrooms on this floor. And they were all connected, making a subtle "U" shape. "Come here," I said as I opened the second door on my left, "This is where you'll be staying."

Only then as he walked into the room did I hear the chains, and remember. As my father had left, he had handed me a small key, I used it then to unlock Jace from his binds. "Sorry about that," he gave my a half-smile of appreciation as the chains fell to the floor. "So, this is where you'll be staying." I gave him a second to take it in, it was large for a spare room, almost as big as my own. A four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, and around the bed pushed against the walls sat furniture that matched the wood trim around the bed. Other than that the room was bare.

"I'll help you decorate," I offered.

"Thanks," he was still taking in his surroundings, "this room could fit three of my old bedrooms."

I laughed, "Anyways," I said, trying to subtly move the conversation from his old life, I know he's been here for two weeks already, but I assume it's still a tender topic, besides we'll have plenty of time to get to that, "The first room on this side of the hallway is Simon's, I'll introduce you to him tomorrow, I'm sure he's fast asleep. Through this door," I said walking towards a door in the far corner, "leads to the bathroom. Up until now it had just been Simon and me, but now there are going to be three people sharing one bathroom, since there are no bathrooms on the floor below us, and Valentine likes his privacy on the ground floor. The most important thing is to lock all three doors," I said laughing. "There's the door that opens through your room, one connected to the hallway, and one connected to my room."

I then led him to my room, which had the same furniture, only painted white, blue walls, and a black comforter. The room itself was a mess, clothes strewn around the floor, books piled in corners with odd little souvenirs balanced on top of the piles. Not to mention the numerous paintings and posters that covered the walls. There was just one thing missing.

"There are no pictures in here."

"I know," I said sadly, " my mother was the one that made us take family photos, but she died when I was in kindergarten, afterwards Valentine lost it, he started homeschooling me and my older brother, Jon, and we hardly ever left the house. Now, that I'm older he can't really keep me locked in quite as often. He's stopped getting angry about my leaving, but I can tell he's still wary. Anyway, freedom is still kinda of a new thing for me, and since my mother left me all the money in her bank account, I go a little overboard when I go shopping." I said gesturing around me. He chuckled at that.

I started walking to the door directly in front of us, "And this is my art studio," I said revealing the large room whose walls were covered in paintings of everything from nature, to architecture, and everything in between. Along with doodled portraits, and chalk pastel sunsets.

"You made all of these?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yes," I whispered, staring at my feet, I could feel my cheeks burning.

"Hey," he walked over to me, and lifted my chin so I was looking into his eyes, which was hard, since he was over a foot taller than me and my measly measurement of 5'2."These are fantastic." I smiled and gave him a quick hug before leading us back into the hallway the the studio door.

"Okay, every room has a door that connects to the hallway, and a door that connects to its adjoining room, so I would lock the door connected to Simon's to avoid an awkward situation. Hopefully once you two have met, you'll be good friends. But, it's getting late so I'm going to got to bed, just use my toiletries until we go shopping." I said yawning, "Just, please, not the toothbrush or razor."

I turned and walked into my room as he laughed. I know I should be cautious, even scared, I don't know this guy or anything about him, but he just seems so….safe. The only other person I've ever felt like that with is Simon. Even my own father makes me kind of scared, ever since I found out about his business I've had this nagging thought, if I piss him off too bad he could just throw me in the next auction. He wouldn't though.

At least I don't think he would.

The next morning I woke up to shouting.

"Who the hell are you!?"

"Uhm, hi, I'm Jace, I take it Clary hasn't told you about me yet."

"No! I can't say she has! Where the fu-"

"HEY!" I shouted, "No, cussing before breakfast." I said "Simon, play nice, this is Jace, Jace meet Simon." The boys were standing right outside the hallway bathroom door, no doubt Jace had forgotten to lock the door and Simon had gotten quite the surprise on his way to a morning shower.

"It's a pleasure….I think," Jace said, offering Simon his hand, which Simon made a point of ignoring.

"Okay here's the plan, Jace and I will head down to the kitchen and make breakfast, Simon, take a shower and, please, cool off. I'm sorry I should have sent a text or something, it all just happened pretty quickly, and it was very late, I'm sorry again." Simon gave a curt nod and a tight smile before headed back into the bathroom.

Once out of earshot Jace asked, "Yeesh, is he always like that."

"No," We were now descending the top flight of stairs, "he just has some trust issues that's all." I silently debated myself on whether to tell Jace or not. My decision was a resounding yes, I had to explain why Simon was like this or face the possibility that the boys wouldn't get along, I also didn't want to hide things from somebody I was going to have to live with.

"You see, Simon's parents dropped him at an orphanage when he was five, by the age of six he had been brought here. At this point it had been a year since my mom died and I hadn't seen anyone outside the house since. That's when I learned of my father's business, it was still starting up and the security to the chamber wasn't very tight. I'd heard weeping through the vents and followed it to the cellar. Simon was the only one in the terrible place, I stayed down there all night just to calm him down."

We were now on the second floor, walking down the hall to the other set of stairs. "By the next morning I was begging my father to let Simon live upstairs with me. I just wanted a friend, you know? It took two weeks for him to finally give in, he also set strict guidelines, it took Simon about three years to get the freedom he has, which at this point is equivalent to mine."

Descending the last set of stairs, I continued, "You wouldn't believe the things Valentine made us watch, he did it in order to scare Simon so he wouldn't run off and tell. I still get nightmares from that stuff. Fast forward, when Simon had been here five years we gave him the option to leave, but he didn't want to. His family left him, he would have nowhere to go, and we had become each other's best friend. Now he's basically just a brother. He's been here for ten years now, and in that time he has kind of become protective of me, so don't take it personally, it will just take him a while to trust you."

By the time my story was over we had made it to the kitchen and I could see the concern on Jace's face. "Don't worry, I don't think you're going to have to stay nearly that long," I said.

"Well, that's a relief," Jace said, and I wasn't sure whether to be offended by that or not, so I ignored it and went about my business gathering supplies for waffles. But, even at my attempts to hide the sadness I got from those four little words, he must have realized what he said and tried to cover it up with, "Oh God, no, it's not you, it's just, I mean, imagine if it was you."

And he was right. "Don't worry, I get it," and out of nowhere Jace gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Thank you," was all he said.

Author's Note:

I'm still not a hundred percent sure what is going to happen in the following chapters of the story, but I figured this would be a good time to build the relationship, and even add in another character. This is basically just a character understanding chapter with some filler, don't worry, I hope to make this much more exciting, I'm just building up to it. Thanks for reading.

-Kris


	3. Jon? Ch 3

Undetermined Title

That morning as we left to go shopping I noticed something on the entryway table. A small plastic card, laying on top of a note.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. Have fun.

Love, V

"Did he just leave you a credit card without a spending limit?" Jace's eyebrows were up, and he laughed when he saw the devious smile that crept across my face.

"That was definitely not a good Idea," Simon said sarcastically

"Oh, contrary my dear Sy." I said wiggling my eyebrows at him, "It was a fantastic idea. In fact, I know exactly what we are going to do with this." At my saying this the boys looked at each other and smiled, the first sign of friendliness they had shown each other. Good, this was progress.

"This is taking forever, I'm going next door, see you two in a few," Simon wasted no time leaving the Sprint store. It was our first stop, and sure as hell wouldn't be our last.

"You know you didn't have to buy me a phone, but thank you," Jace said.

"I didn't buy you a phone, according to this little card here a Mr. Eugene Morgenstern bought you a phone," I said, barely holding in my laugh.

"Yeesh, now I know why he prefers Valentine. But seriously, you know what I mean."

"It's no big deal," we were still waiting on Brad, the guy had left ten minutes ago to activate Jace's new phone, "just one condition, and I know it's going to sound harsh, but it's for the best. Okay?"

"Okay, what is it?'

"You can't contact your family," the words made my throat tight, and when I looked at Jace he was staring at the far wall, hard. "I, know, I'm sorry, but calling will only make it harder on them. It's hard to explain, but you have to understand that-"

"It's not that." I wasn't sure if he was going to go on, it looked as if he was fighting an internal battle, and he still wasn't looking at me. After a few moments of silence he shifted his gaze to me and at my concerned look, he continued, "My parents died last year, my brother and sister were too young to be on their own, so they were forced to live with my aunt and uncle. I haven't heard from any of them since." He looked close to tears when he said, "I think of them everyday, every single day, and pray that they're okay, my little Izzy and Max, but I can't help feeling that I don't even cross their mind."

"I'm so sorry," I leaned in to hug him, and he accepted with open arms. "I don't understand, though. You're only seventeen, they let you just live on your own?"

"No, I graduated early," he was still drying the few tears that had escaped as he went on, "I left for a military camp until I was old enough to serve, that's where I was grabbed. Right, outside the camp entrance."

I nodded my head in solemn understanding, at a loss for words. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this," I whispered.

"I'm not."

 **Jace POV:**

"I still don't get it," I said as we entered Clary's house after a long day of shopping.

"What don't you get?" Clary had done her best to fill me in on everything, and she had done a great job at it, considering she had never given the "Reason You've Been Kidnapped and Explanation of the Kidnapping Business" speech before.

"Why live in a big suburban household? Doesn't that give Valentine a higher risk of being caught?"

"Think of it like Valentine would," Simon answered, aside from the bad start this morning and the sideways glances he thought I wouldn't catch, Simon has been pretty normal towards me, almost nice even, which Clary categorized as "great". "You were in the military right. If you were looking for a slave trading business, where would you look?"

I thought about that for a minute, it was obvious, "We would look for secluded areas, places people could travel without being seen."

"Exactly, the more populated, the less suspicious. Plus Valentine does his work in the dark."

"It's a scary thing to do, but sometimes to understand why, you have to think like my father," Clary spoke. Thinking like Valentine was obviously something Clary had been forced to do.

 **Jace POV:**

It had been over a week since I had been sold and I hadn't seen so much as a wink of Valentine. Not that I was complaining, that guy gave me the creeps. His smile was wicked and he had this cold dead look behind his eyes. Clary said he normally worked all day, and that his absence wasn't unusual, he had even been on a business trip over the weekend. It was still weird, considering I haven't even heard him enter his own house once. I felt a sudden pang of pity for five year old Clary, with no one but her brother, who was years older.

It was hard to think that Valentine could possibly be Clary's father. Where she had soft features, and a small smatter of freckles across her cheeks, her father had hard sharp features, to the point it looked like his cheekbones might pop through his skin, and a face as smooth and cold as marble. Not to mention Clary's bright red hair and green eyes that sparkled when she looked at me, while Valentine had the whitest hair I've ever seen and eyes that look like black abysses.

I couldn't help but laugh as I look over at the girl sitting to my right on the couch, and the skinny boy on her other side. We were an odd trio. I was the tallest with blonde hair and strange yellow eyes, which tended to scare most people, but not Clary. She had even asked if she could paint my eyes (promptly followed by a blush that made even her ears go red), which she had described as golden. I also hadn't kicked the military habits quite yet and still sat stiff as a board.

Next there was Clary, who was currently slumped down on the couch, a free spirit with wild tangles of hair that couldn't be tamed and a sarcastic tongue, but out of the three of us, she was also the sweetest, most understanding person.

Then there was Simon. He was nice enough, and he definitely lived up to his reputation of untrustworthy towards others. Now, I understand that a week isn't very long, but when you've spent every waking hour of that week together, the time adds up. I've discovered so far that the best way to get him to open up is to play video games. It's a time when he's much more aggressive, but he's also a lot funnier.

"What are you laughing at?" Clary asked. I never got a chance to answer that question however, seeing as the doorbell rang and all three of us shot up. I'm not sure if it's because Valentine never gets guests, or if it's because he never gets guests in the daylight, but Simon and Clary looked worried.

Thankfully the TV had been turned down and there were no lights on, so the house could pass as empty. The three of us crept to the entryway as quietly as possible. Clary moved towards the door when I grabbed her wrist. "Hold on," I whispered, "you live in this mansion with all this valuable stuff and you don't have any security cameras?"

"We do but Valentine won't give me the password to access them, besides more often than not someone is always here, and if you haven't noticed, we aren't the type that gets guests." She took her arm back and slowly walked across the entryway to the front door. Looking through the peephole she sighed and opened the door.

The spitting image of Valentine stood on our doorstep, but this Valentine was younger. Almost as if Eugene had been thrown into a washer machine and then ironed out. "Jace, this is my brother Jon, Jon this is Jace, he's new here, and you remember Simon." After shaking Jon's hand I recalled what she had told me about her brother. He had been Valentine's partner in crime and gone to jail for drug abuse. "What are you doing here? You're not supposed to get out for two more years."

"I got out early for good behavior, and I came to see dad." It was a curt remark, but it wasn't rude, just short.

"He's not here, I haven't seen him in a week. At the last auction." Auctions were always held on the first Wednesday of the month, another thing I had picked up from Clary. It was now Thursday, nearing evening.

After Clary invited Jon in, Simon and I left to give the duo some privacy, but I kept an ear out for any signs of distress, and it was obvious Simon was doing the same thing. Both of us very much aware of the brother and sisters dramatically different viewpoints and Jon's sudden outbursts of aggression.

My knowledge came from a week of talking to the beautiful redhead girl, Simon's comes from a decade of experience, so I didn't question him when he got up every five minutes to peek around the corner.

The next few days were uneventful, with my brother getting visibly anxious more and more every night, until Sunday, when Jon declared he was going to my father's work the next day.

Once Monday morning has arrived, I woke up to find my brother already gone, and Simon and Jace playing video games. I'm happy the boys are getting along, they are two of the five important people in my life and I like when everybody's happy. True, Valentine has never been really happy with Simon and he probably never will be happy with Jace, either, but as long as he's nice, that's good enough.

Around noon Jon came home, and he looked scared and disheveled. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" Jace was trying to communicate with Jon, but I already knew I'm the only one he'd tell.

"Jonny," I say gently, recalling his childhood nickname, "what happened Jonny?"

"Dad," he whispered, "Dad," a little louder, "DAD!" He shouted.

"What about dad?"

"He's not at work," he was starting to sweat, "His secretary said he hasn't been to work in a week. She says he took a vacation."

"What's so bad about that?" Jace asked.

"Our father doesn't take vacations, he didn't even take our mother on a honeymoon!" Jon spat.

"Jonny, it's going to be okay, just calm down." He relaxed slightly as I hugged him, but I could still feel the tension. "Why don't we go check out the pub." My father hasn't had a sip to drink since the incident, but he still goes to the pub.

Right after my mother's death he became an alcoholic, trying to drink away the memory of my mother, and had he not had me, that might have been possible, but while Jon looked exactly like my father, I looked exactly like my mother. One night he came home so drunk he thought I was the ghost of my mother and threw a beer bottle at me telling me to leave him alone. The bottle shattered on my arm and left numerous gashes. I haven't seen him so much as touch an alcoholic beverage since, and that was ten years ago.

He may have given up drinking but he still went there for the food, he also had friends there, plus I heard the company's been having a hard time, and he could be riding the alcohol train again. Not to mention it was nearing the eleventh anniversary of my mother's death. There were numerous reasons he might be there, and it was the only place I could think of that my father has been to more than twice.

Author's Note: I know this was a boring chapter but it serves a purpose. That's why I'm posting two chapters today. Just bear with me, it speeds up I promise, the backstories are important and I had to find a way to fit them in. Also, sorry it took so long to update, I had so many ideas and I wasn't sure how to connect them.

-Kris


	4. Get Him To Magnus Ch 4

"Hey Clary! How've you been?" asked Maurice, the bartender. Maurice's son, Alec, had been one of Valentine's customers, until he died of a disease ( I'm not sure what the disease was, though). Everybody who bought from my father knew who I was, which was unsettling, and Maurice was no exception, having loaned plenty of money to Alec to buy. However, Maurice was one of the few people my father associated with that didn't creep me out. He also knew me since my father was a regular at the pub, and sometimes on a rare occasion he even took me and Simon to eat at the pub.

"Hey, Maurice. I was just wondering if you've seen my father recently." I tried to say as sweetly as I could. Right now it was hard for me to be calm, but I was trying. I normally wouldn't worry about my father not coming home, but not going to work was a different story. When he gave up being an alcoholic he became a workaholic, and would even go to work on holidays.

"Can't say I have, that's a face I don't forget seeing."

"Oh, alright, thanks," I couldn't hide the disappointment in my voice, but thankfully I hid the anxiety, word would spread if people found out my father was missing, and who knows what would happen then.

"I saw him," we all turned at that, and in that split second I saw my brothers face, he looked like he was going to be sick. It was the janitor that had spoken, sitting in a booth, since the pub didn't get busy until night fall there wasn't much for him to do. "He was here a couple of days ago, with somebody, I'm not sure who." Jon went to the bathroom, sweaty and nauseous. "Wasn't here long, even ordered a drink from the bar." Everybody at the bar was familiar with my father and his background, including the janitor.

"And you didn't stop him?"

"I tried little miss, but you know your father better than any-" At that moment the lights flickered and in the pitch black darkness, two gunshots could be heard. I immediately ducked and felt Jace do the same on one side, while Simon did a less graceful version on my other side.

When the lights came back on I saw two things that will haunt me forever. First, the janitor was slumped in his booth, blood spilling from his forehead. Next, and somehow worse and better at the same time was Simon, with a bloody shoulder. Thankfully it was his right shoulder, not near his heart.

"Oh my God," I gasped and ran for Sy, my nerdy, geeky, brotherly Sy. How did this happen, how could I let Sy get hurt? Why were we shot at anyway? "Oh my God." I said again, ripping my sweater over my head leaving me in just my tank top. I wrapped Simon's shoulder as best I could.

"We need to get him to the hospital." It was Jace, and even though he was trying to be helpful, I couldn't help but scream.

"We can't take him to a hospital, you idiot!" Tears were streaming down my face as I yelled, and I immediately regretted the words when I saw the hurt flash across his face. "I'm sorry Jace, but if the decade of missing medical information isn't enough to raise suspicion maybe the missing child report is."

"Then what are we supposed to do?"

"We have to go Magnus's."

!

"Magnus! Magnus! Open up! It's an emergency!" I yelled, banging on the door. The past ten minutes are a haze, I remember yelling at Jace, Jace carrying Simon to the car, and then showing up here.

The front door swung open and in the midday light stood the eccentrically dressed Magnus. He looked like he belonged on the runway, not just for his devilishly good looks, perfect hair, and artistic make up, but also for the ridiculous clothes he wears that no normal person would be caught dead in. "How's my little firecracker," he said teasingly before noticing Jace holding a bloody Simon, "Oh, not very good, I guess." Magnus stepped aside, gesturing for us to enter. "Set him on the table while I prepare."

Jace looked confused until I lead him to a surgical table in a back room. Sitting next to it was a hospital bed, in the corner sat a desk and computer where Magnus kept his files, and the rest of the room was filled with medical gadgets whose purposes I wouldn't be able to tell you in a thousand years. "Where are we?" Jace was still holding a very pale looking Simon.

"This is Magnus Bane's house, this is where every drug dealer, human trafficker, pimp, and prostitute come for medical attention." Jace gave me a quizzled look as he set Sy down. "Remember, think like a criminal. Let's say there's a shooting between two drug lords, if one of them goes to the hospital there's a bigger chance of getting picked up, whereas Magnus swears his secrecy and has yet to break that promise. He makes good money, seeing as he's the only downworld doctor." I was fidgeting as I answered, still anxious, but not nearly as much as I had been, Magnus was a great doctor, I've seen him bring back people that were on the edge of death.

"Downworld?"

"Yeah, it's something me and Simon came up with. Underworld was too obvious, it's how we refer to the 'bad people' of the world. Like my father, he's a downworlder." I was now playing with a loose string from my blouse, anything to keep me preoccupied so I don't freak out.

"So this Magnus guy is a downworlder?"

"Not exactly, he just helps them when they're injured. He's actually a really nice guy."

Jace stood nodding his head, trying to form the pieces of the puzzle into an image. "How'd he get all this medical stuff?"

"Some criminals can't afford Magnus, when you're the only one of your kind you can charge as much as you want. So when Magnus was starting out he'd have people pay him with stolen medical supplies." Talking was helping, I just had to keep talking, otherwise I could lose it.

"You're telling me the downworld doctor runs on a barter system?"

"Sometimes, yeah."

"Okay, what did you do this time, Little Red?" Magnus asked entering the room. At this point Simon had passed out.

"Simon, Jace, and I had gone with Jon-Oh shit! We forgot Jon!"

"Jon's out of prison?" Magnus asked wonderingly.

"Yes he's out, and there's no way to contact him, he doesn't have a phone. Urg!" I turned to Jace. "I need you to call the pub, no doubt the cops are already there and Jon left but it's worth a shot." Once Jace had left the room I turned back to Magnus as he worked, "The four of us went to the pub to try to find my father, we haven't seen him in a week."

"Oh, I saw him, here stopped by here a few days ago, left a note for you, In fact I was just about to mail it when you three came banging at my door, like a bunch of crazed monkeys."

"A note? Why wouldn't he just leave it in the entryway? Or text me?"

"Not sure cupcake, but I'll get it once this bullet is out of your friends shoulder." There was a moment of silence before, "Who's your new friend?"

"Oh, that's Jace." I was staring at the floor, trying to make out the pattern, and focus less on the rush of blood that swam to my cheeks. "He was in last week's auction, you know how I hate those things," Magnus shook his head in understanding, he wasn't fond of Valentine's business either, especially after Alec died, Magnus's boyfriend, none other than Maurice's son and Jon's best friend. Magnus thinks Alec died of an infectious disease spread from one of Alec's slaves. He didn't let personal belief get in the way of his own business, however. "I saved him," I whispered.

"That you did," Magnus said. He was now separating Simon's skin to remove the bullet, and that was my sign to leave.

As I entered the hallway Jace was walking towards me. For the past week Jace has been all I could look at, think about, and dream about. He was beautiful, and kind, and broken, almost as broken as me, and I can't help but like him more for it.

"Hey, the bartender guy said Jon went home." Jace said, and I could tell the weight being lifted off my shoulders was visible, because right then Jace brought me to his chest with a hug.

"I'm sorry again, Jace."

"For what?"

"For yelling and calling you an idiot."

"You're unbelieveable," he whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"What do you mean?" I asked pulling away so I could look him in the eye.

"You saw someone killed, your best friend got shot, your father is missing, and you're sorry that you yelled at me. That's what I mean. You find time to care about everybody, and that's amazing, Clary. Please, don't ever change."

!

"Here you go Clary, that's the bill and that's the note." Magnus said, offering me two papers.

"Here, run this." I handed Magnus Valentine's card, since I had never had the chance to give it back to him. I wasn't focused on that, however. Even Magnus sniggering "Eugene" couldn't pull me away from my target.

I ripped open the note and read:

Dear Clary,

Please don't worry about me. I've gone on a business trip, I won't be back until later in the month.

Love,

Dad.

I knew immediately, "My dad didn't write this." I told Magnus as he approached.

"Why would you say that?"

"This isn't my father's handwriting."

"He was buzzed when he showed up here, probably wrote that at that same time, messed up his writing a little bit."

"No, that's not it, this is neater than my father's handwriting. See," I pulled out the crumpled up note Valentine had left me on my birthday. "Plus, he always signs 'Love, V' never 'Love, Dad'."

"That's not exactly evidence, sweety," Magnus said, "besides, your father was the one I saw, he handed me the note personally."

"Well, did he say anything else when gave you the note?"

"Nothing that I could understand, he kept mumbling, something about U.G., I don't know."

"Eugene? Maybe?"

"Possibly, I guess." This was no help, my father drunkenly mumbling his own name did nothing to help us find him. "Anyway, Simon is going to have to stay here overnight so I can keep an eye on his wound."

!

The rest of the day was spent scouring New York City for any business with the letters U.G. in it, which was a surprising bunch. We found everything from Unloved Girls (Strip Club) to Uncle Grub's (Sandwich Shop). At every single stop we looked and asked about my father, and at every single stop, not a soul had seen him.

Although, no matter how stress filled the day got, Jace always found a way to lighten the mood. For example, every downworld place we visited, Jace made jokes, which to some people would have been irritating, but it helped keep me calm. He even took me to some pretty cool places I never knew existed, and all day long he took pictures on the camera I had gotten him last week. Never once did he complain about helping me find my father, and I think that's what counts the most to me. The fact that Jace will willingly help find the person that tried to sell him is strange to me, however.

"Why are you helping me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I would have understood if you sat in the car and refused to help, I mean my father almost turned you into a slave. Yet, here you are, trying to help me find him. I just don't get it."

"He's important to you, right?"

"Well, yeah."

"Then there you go. You saved me, gave me a life again, I don't want to see you hurt."

"Jon! We're home!" I yelled.

"Hey, I'm going to the hotel down the street." Jon emerged into the entryway carrying a small suitcase.

"Why?"

"I'm going to swim some laps, see you later." I didn't bother mentioning the fact that we have a pool. I know Jon just wants some privacy, plus swimming helps him think, and we could use all the brainpower we could get at the moment.

Somehow Jace and I ended up on the third floor, and we made our way to his room. As promised, I had helped decorate Jace's room. Not only did he have a closet and dresser full of new clothes, but he also had a flat screen TV, gaming systems and even a couch.

"I'm not even tired, I don't think I could sleep if I wanted to."

"You're of course welcome to stay here, Clary. I could bore you with my knowledge of Edgar Allen Poe, if you'd like."

I laughed at that, "No thanks, and I like Edgar, actually. Anyways, goodnight." I got on my tippy toes to give him a peck on the cheek, this was nothing new. It had almost become habit for Jace and I, but as a tilted up something happened. I'm not sure if I missed, or if I did it on purpose, or even if Jace turned into it, but it wasn't his cheek my lips landed on.

 **Author's Note: So this chapter advanced a little bit, but I've got much bigger plans for this story. Again, I'm sorry it took so long to update and I know it's bland in places but it's all part of a bigger picture. Anyways, I hope you like the bland**.

-Kris


	5. That Was Unexpected Ch 5

"Oh my God, Jace I'm so sorry."

"For what?" He smirked and pulled me back to him, crashing his lips to mine. Despite the force he used to pull me to him, his kisses were soft and sweet. He kissed lightly across my jaw and down my neck to my collarbone, causing my eyes to become unfocused. I don't know if I lost my balance or if Jace had picked me up but suddenly we were both on his bed. Jace lay on top of me, kissing me feverishly, as my fingers laced through his wet hair.

His tongue traced my lips and then my teeth, making my body shudder. I hooked my fingers in his belt loops and pulled his waist down to me, I could now feel him getting more and more aroused through our jeans and I wrapped my legs around him, pushing us closer together. He collapsed onto me and I took my chance. Sucking on his neck, I could feel his body shake with pleasure. Before I could finish what I had started he was back on his hands kissing my exposed chest.

I hadn't realized how much I wanted this. Sure, I knew Jace was a looker the second I saw him, even under all the dirt, scrapes, and bruises. But then he had to open his stupid mouth and make me want him more. He couldn't have just been a dick like most hot guys, or even just like most people in his position would have been. No, of course not, he had to be charming, and sarcastic, and funny. And now, with Jace on top of me, I finally understood just how much I wanted this.

Oooh, and it felt so good, Jace was naturally skilled, or it could just be that I haven't had much experience, maybe both. All I knew was that I was happy no one else was home.

Jace reached his hand under my tank top and my stomach clenched. "You feel a little tense," he was being sarcastic but in the most seductive way. He lifted my camisole over my head and kissed his way from my belly button up to my mouth. His eyes were hungry and I could tell he was holding himself back from what he really wanted, but all the same he went slow. He sucked on my neck as he made his way to my lips, no doubt leaving marks. I shuddered every time his lips made contact with my skin.

When he got to me mouth I lifted his shirt over his head and started exploring his body with my fingers. He was so chiseled, is this the kind of body military camp gave you, or was this just Jace. He watched me for a moment before attacking my lips with his. I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist, the friction in our pants making me ache, and I realized I didn't want them in the way anymore.

As I undid Jace's belt, he took it as a sign to unbotton my pants. We worked in unison, our lips never parting each other's, as our pants slid to the floor. I was suddenly conscious of the fact that my bra and panties didn't match, but Jace didn't seem to care. As he stared at my body I heard an almost animalistic growl deep in Jace's throat. That was quite the confidence booster.

He began tracing his lips over every exposed inch of my body, and as he moved, his waist rubbed up against mine, making it harder and harder to control my desire.

He was still laying on top of me but closer, before he held himself on his hands, now he was on his elbows. I prefered it this way, he was closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off of his body like a sauna. I know we must have been making noise, but I don't remember any of it, all I remember is me, and Jace, and the intimacy.

He pulled his knees under him and clamped them around my waist, taking the pressure off his arms so that he could wind his fingers behind me, he played with the clasp of my bra for a minute as he sucked my earlobe. I wanted this, I wanted this more than anything.

But that's when the realization hit me, if we went any farther, there would be no going back, just a lot of going forward. And what if he regretted it in the morning, I was sure of my feelings, but was he?

"No, Jace, we can't," I pulled away. Looking in his eyes all I could see was desire, I never thought I'd see someone with so much passion…...for me. I suddenly felt guilty for stopping, but we couldn't do this, and the longer I thought about it the more it made sense, or I should say, the less it made sense.

"What do you mean? I thought….." He struggled to make his eyes focus.

"If these were normal circumstances, trust me, I wouldn't have stopped you." It was true, under normal circumstances I wouldn't have a father that sells people, or a brother that uses women, but under normal circumstances Jace probably wouldn't even be into me. And that's why we had to stop "Just think about it. If we decided we didn't want this later on…...it just wouldn't work. You live across the hall. We share a bathroom. There would be no escaping each other, and I don't want to ruin what we have."

"Clary please, if it's something I did-"

"Jace, don't be ridiculous, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why not, if it's something we both want-"

"But we shouldn't want it, besides…."

"Besides what?"

"Nothing."

"Clary, please tell me. Tell me why we shouldn't want it. Tell me why you changed your mind."

"I didn't change my mind," he looked confused "Nevermind, It's stupid." I looked away.

"I don't care." He hooked his finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him. "Tell me." he whispered. He looked in pain, how could I not answer, I didn't want to hurt him, but at the same time, I didn't want to tell him.

"I just can't help this feeling, like you're only doing this because…" My voice trailed off.

"Because what, Clary?" I just shook my head, I couldn't say it out loud.

There was a long silence. Jace was thinking about it, he was still laying on top of me, and there was no averting my eyes as he spoke, "Because you're my owner," he whispered the words I couldn't say. "Clary, listen to me. I've never thought of you as that, and neither have you, I can see it. Clary, please tell me what's really bothering you."

"I don't want to lose you! I don't want to drive you away, but I'm scared that over time we might fall into a brother-sister bond. I don't want that."

"That will never happen." He kissed my forehead. "But I have a feeling you're not telling me everything. What else is bothering you? Please tell me." Damn it, why was he so good at reading me, or was I just an open book.

"I-I can't." Tears started to spill lightly down my face.

"You can tell me anything. You know that." He spoke so softly and so sweetly.

"What would have happened if we met outside these walls, if I was just a normal girl and you were just a normal boy. What would have happened then. Would you even have noticed me?"

"Clary, there is no such thing as normal, you of all people should get that." He didn't say it like he was irritated, more like he was making a joke, and he smiled at me as he spoke. "Of course I would have noticed you, it's impossible not to, do you really not see all the hormonal teenage boys that stare at you as you pass?" He spoke slowly, trying to call me down and make me feel better at the same time. He started twisting my hair around his fingers as I calmed down.

"I always just thought I had toilet paper on my shoe," I tried to joke. He chuckled, and I could feel the vibration all through my body. My tears had faded since Jace had started speaking, and I just hoped I didn't look too disastrous. "Speaking of hormones," I said peeking down at our bodies, his knees still clutched my hips as he hovered over me with his hands on either side of my head, leaving his bulge in a perfect, yet imperfect place. He blushed and rolled over, covering his face as I giggled.

We both sat up on the edge of the bed, "Jace?"

"Yes?"

"What happens when this is all over, when you have the option to leave, what happens if you meet someone better than me."

"But that's the thing isn't it," I looked at him quizzically, "there is no one better than you." He whispered in my ear.

"That is far from true, but I like the sentiment." I could tell Jace was happy I was acting more like me and not some dramatic teenager. I don't know what happened to me, just the thought of losing this boy I haven't even know for a month was enough to me hysterical.

"Stay with me tonight? Please."

"Fine," I said it as if I was giving in, but in all honesty, I wouldn't have gotten out of that bed for a million dollars.

!

I woke up the next morning in Jace's bed, wearing the shirt he had worn the day before. I rolled out of his arms and sat on the edge of the bed, admiring his semi-nude body. I racked my brain for the details of the night before, hoping I hadn't had unprotected sex and making a mental note to buy some condoms (just in case).

"Enjoying the view?" I hadn't realized he was awake. "I can tell you're trying to remember, and no we didn't have sex. Close but not quite."

I blushed, it was much more embarrassing in the daylight. "Well that's good," He cocked his eyebrow, "No! Not good that we didn't, just good that we didn't without, you know…"

He laughed, "You mean protection." I blushed an even darker red as he sat next to me.

"Yeah, that."

"You don't have to be so shy, babe."

"Did you just call me babe?" He shrugged, and smirked at me, urging me to throw one of his pillows at his perfect, smug face.

"Oh you're on." In seconds Jace had me pinned on the mattress.

"No fair, you were in the military." I laughed.

"Military camp."

"Same difference."

"I could teach you how to defend yourself." He offered, and I wasn't sure whether he meant in wrestling, or in real life.

"Deal, only I can't exactly offer you my hand when you're sitting on it."

"I'd like to seal the deal in a different way." He leaned down and I felt those soft lips crash into mine. The night before he was gentle and careful, as if he was scared he would hurt me. That morning ,however, he had much more confidence as his kisses became more passionate.

As he moved his way down my neck, I managed an even tone, "While I'd love to stay like this, we have to go."

"Awe, but I don't wanna," I snickered at his fake pout. "Oh my God." He was looking at me and laughing.

"What?" I was suddenly very self-conscious again.

"No, it's not you," he said "It's your neck."

"What about my neck?" I questioned as he lifted up my shirt, "Hey!"

"Sorry, btw you really are hot."

"Oh, put a sock in it, what's wrong with my neck?"

"It's not just your neck, it's your stomach, too. Go look in the mirror."

I ran to the bathroom with Jace following. It took me a minute to focus before I realized what he had been talking about. "What did you do to me?" I was in awe, but at the same time shocked. I was covered in hickeys. "Do you realize how much foundation this is going to take?"

"Why cover them?" He came up behind me and hugged my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. "I'm not covering mine." He winked into the mirror.

"Pig." I joked, "But seriously, we have to break it to Sy slowly, he's not good with change."

"Fine," he pouted, "But I am not putting makeup on."

"Oh, yes you are."

Author's Note:

I am so sorry, I meant to update a long time ago but we started moving so there hasn't been any wifi for about a month and a half. I should be updating regularly (for the most part) from now on. Anyway, I took a break from the all the crime and what not to just try to build a Clace relationship. Next chapter should jump back into the groove of missing father, weird brother, and basically just trying to figure it all out. Hope you like it, first time writing anything like this, so feedback would be awesome. Thanx!

-Kris


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